Skip to main content

It's been a while...

but the truth is I don't have much in me anymore.  Real truth is I wish I weren't here. God's honest truth is if I thought it would really solve anything I'd of probably offed myself by now.  Harsh words you think, not really.  This grieving, this loss, this pain grows more intense with each day.  Each day without my precious son, each day in this world without his smile, his laugh, his beauty, is one more day of agony.  I long to be shed of it, to be free to rest, to feel and not hurt, to laugh and not cry, to smile and not ache. 

Some have told me the second year of this loss was the worst.  In the midst of the first year such thought was inconceivable.  Now, as I approach this second year without my son, I get it. I see it. I feel it.  The blinders of shock have been removed and the significance of it all is revealed; all we lost, all he lost, all that could have been and will never be. It's overwhelming, suffocating, impossible to comprehend, unacceptable and excruciatingly painful.

This agony doesn't stop.  It never ever stops.  It swells and spreads. It consumes you.  The pain overshadows all other things of your existence, it becomes you, it is you, it defines you. My name is Pain.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

God Moment

I was thinking of when I created this blog and named it.... Living with Loss, I knew I would have to live with this loss, but at that time I wasn't living, I was surviving. It was a goal of sorts… but also a mission to keep breathing. It is only now, over six years since the death of my son that I have begun to know how to live again. The sharpness of those first months and years have softened and the pangs of grief strike less frequently, though when they do they rage with vengeance. What a journey of emotion these past six and half years have been from overwhelming and consuming grief, disbelief and shock, depression and fear, finally acceptance and the incorporation of the loss into our lives.  I remember in the first months after Wyatt's death, I would walk through the house and tell myself he had gone on a very long trip to a place far, far away. He was unable to contact me and I unable to contact him. I later learned counselors think this is a poor method for ...
5 comments
Read more

Seeing God Where I am

O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of races and cultures in this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.   Carolyn A. Rose I've had the distinct privilege in life to have traveled to various places, some vastly different from my home, and some quite similar.  Regardless of the magnitude of differences, I can always feel the uniqueness of the place. After a while, certainly I long for the familiar comfort of home... but I always return with a fuller heart and a more open mind. Then it's like a siren song calling me back to seek more, ask more, learn more and inwardly digest it to build me into a more understanding and compassionate being.  In a class I am taking, we were posed this question: How have ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Yin and Yang and a Rock

A husband and wife (spouse/partner) generally have different ways to soothe their sorrows, express their grief, and to move forward in life. Finding a balance that respects each other is imperative to land in a healing place. Moving forward can be challenging and scary because all the while you want desperately to keep alive the memory of what was once the living representation of your union.   My husband and I have very different ways of coping with our grief. I see him as an active griever. My way is a bit more clandestine. He finds comfort in listening to the songs our son enjoyed, driving his truck, visiting the places he went. For him, these things are a connection to our son.  To be in concert with a person who knew Wyatt, or to be in a place they were together is a heartbeat for him.  Me, I retreat to a veiled silence. The songs, the places, the things; more often than not, they evoke fear and sorrow in my heart.  The marrow of my being hurts an...
2 comments
Read more